


Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave

by VulgarSequins



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Daryl, Daryl cutting up an animal, Demanding Daryl, Dirty Talk, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Gun belt kink, M/M, Prison timeline, Top Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8613190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulgarSequins/pseuds/VulgarSequins
Summary: Daryl takes note of Rick's gun belt. Set in the Prison when everything wasn't complete shit in their lives.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MermaidSheenaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/gifts).



> So, I was caught in the dilemma of trying to avoid writing my chapter fics, but didn't have an idea. The lovely MermaidSheenaz threw this prompt at me: gun belt. Goes to you as a gift since you gifted me the prompt! Hope it's okay enough ahhh Un beta'd!
> 
> So I ran with it. I kinda wanted to throw it in a different direction than maybe is expected with that prompt. So, hope you enjoy my procrastination!! 
> 
> HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE TONIGHT THOUGH?! Baby Paul "Jesus" Rovia just shot right the fuck up in to my top 5 Walking Dead Babes.

Daryl really wouldn’t be able to give an answer if someone were to ask why exactly he was in Rick’s cell, holding Rick’s gun belt. Just a few hours ago he was outside, avoiding the prison’s newest additions by dressing the deer he caught this morning. Usually being covering in blood and guts while wearing a scowl was a fantastic way to keep people away from him.

His blood and gut method only worked against people that weren’t his family. Carol still greeted him with a smile and a bottle of water while Beth came by for a very **very** brief visit with a happy squeaking Judith in her arms. The young woman knew Daryl loved his visits from the youngest Grimes they had all pretty much adopted, but Beth still didn’t necessarily like seeing Bambi all cut up with her guts all strung about. Judith would wiggle and reach for Daryl, and followed by Beth screeching and whisking Judith away when Daryl playfully tossed a piece of entrail at her feet.

Then of course there was Rick. Seeing Daryl in the state he was in, wasn’t something new to the younger man; it was just part of who Daryl was. He would come up to Daryl’s area, not minding the mess, place his hands on his own hips to shoot the shit with Daryl for a few moments. Occasionally Carl would be with him, watching Daryl and how he cut up the game, but today Rick was absent his son. 

“We gonna have some of that tonight?” Rick blocked the sun from his eyes. His pretty, bright blue eyes. Daryl made a note to pick him up a pair of sunglasses the next time he decided to go on a run. Maybe a few so he could pick a style.

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted, his biceps bulging when he went to break a pesky bone to gain better access to the deer meat. Even though he was focused on his job, had to be with a sharp as hell knife in one hand, he was able to catch the appreciate look Rick gave his arms. Daryl hoped he had some blood on his face to hide his blush. “Carol gonna make steaks or somethin’.”

“That’ll be nice. I’ll see what I can harvest in the garden,” Rick nodded before turning to make his way to his own little world in the prison. Now it was Daryl’s turn to be appreciative of what he saw. His hand stopped sawing at flesh and his eyes moved down to Rick’s lower half. Daryl snorted at the mental joke that went something like “hating to go but loving to watch”. Those terrible, unflattering cat calls were part of Merle’s old repertoire of pick ups, but Daryl couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of yelling them out to Rick. The other man’s walk was something else. The way his legs moved, bowed out and hips forward, emphasizing his groin.

Sometimes Rick would still wear his gun belt, even though he had stepped down as leader of the prison. The time away from that title was doing him good, and Daryl had to agree with Hershel’s words of wisdom that in turn, it was helping Rick’s relationship with Carl. Today was one of those days that he decided to wear the gun belt, and Daryl couldn’t help but be thankful that old habits died hard. The way the thick band of leather sat just above Rick’s hips emphasized his sinful strut. If Daryl didn’t know better, he would think Rick was swaying his hips a little more than necessary, but that man tended to walk like he knew he was hot shit. Not that he wasn’t. 

Fuck, he wanted to bet money that the leather smelled like the other man. It probably would taste like him too. Daryl mindlessly licked at his lips, eyes still watching Rick make his way to his little farm. He never gave it too much thought, but his mind had decided that today would be the day that Daryl needed to fully appreciate that belt and what it did to Rick’s body and movement.

Glenn **may** have caught him staring. Luckily, the other man reacted the same way Beth did if you threw raw meat at him.

Now though? Now he was in Rick’s cell while the sun started setting; their leader no where to be found and staring down at the leather in his hands. It was still warm from Rick’s body heat. His thumbs stroked the basketweave design along the front, the leather soft and worn from use. It was still obviously cared for, and it reminded him of his own leather vest. This article was just so _Rick_. He hefted it a few times in his hands, weighing it. The belt was heavy, the compartments filled with random things he had seen Rick tuck in to them; bullets, cuffs, chapstick, and a bottle of lube that made Daryl snort every time they were out fucking around. Ever the boy scout, his farmer. Of course the belt was home for Rick’s Colt, so that was probably the real reason to the weight of the belt.

Daryl glanced back to the opening of the cell, making sure the curtain was still drawn. It was silly to think that someone may have been watching. He would have known right away if they were, no one able to get the jump on him. He felt a little like a pervert when he lifted the belt to his face, sniffing the leather, but he had to know. Sure enough, it held a faint scent of something that was so Rick. A smile spread over his face as he lowered it and an idea rushed to the forefront of his mind. 

Daryl glanced around again, rolling his eyes at himself for doing it again. Everyone was getting ready for dinner or showering; which he was counting on Rick still being in the shower and cleaning up from being in the dirt all day. He would be long gone out of the cell before Rick ever made his way back. That man loved scrubbing his hair clean, regardless of the freezing cold water. 

He slipped the Python out of its snug home and set it on top of Rick’s desk. He used one hand to lift his shirt and tuck the fabric in his mouth, teeth clamping down on it to hold the front of it out of the way. Daryl then slipped the belt around his waist, moving to buckle it in place. He was able to tell which notch Rick wore by the way the leather was stretched ever so slightly. Daryl tried buckling it in at that hole and grunted when it was just a little too tight for him, so he moved the post to one of the other, looser, notches. That felt-

“Better?”

Daryl jumped and turned to the cell opening, eyes wide and coming face to face with a dripping wet Rick. His own shirt was still between his teeth; showing off his belly and happy trail to the man that snuck up on him. Which, how the fuck did he even do that?! Rick couldn’t be quiet around Daryl even if the other man threatened him. Then it dawned on Daryl why. He didn’t have those loud ass cowboy boots on.

Rick was naked. Very naked. Well, wrapped in a towel naked. Naked and wet and his eyes were honed in on Daryl wearing his gun belt. Daryl’s hands went right back to the buckle of the belt, moving to remove it while grumbling apologies when Rick’s own hands stopped him. 

“Hang on there,” Rick’s voice was deep and like a purr, his face close to Daryl’s. One of those hands with long, elegant fingers was tugging the fabric of his shirt out of his teeth. “Lemme look at you without your shirt in your mouth.”

Only then did Rick step back and let his eyes consume the sight in front of him. Daryl could feel his cheeks burning from the embarrassment of being caught, but that was soon dispelled when his own eyes moved over Rick’s exposed body. Apparently, Rick was enjoying the view, if the tent forming under his towel was anything to go by. 

“Do a little turn?” Rick swirled his finger in the air for emphasis, and Daryl complied. Now, he felt silly, but then Rick’s damp body was pressed against this back, his arms wrapping around his waist and pushing up under his shirt. His hands were still a little cold, leaving chilling trails across Daryl’s warm skin when they traveled across the expanse of this stomach. “Damn, you look hot wearing my belt.” 

“Ya think?” Daryl shuddered when Rick’s response was pressing his hips in to Daryl’s ass and biting on the back of his neck. Daryl let out a quiet exhale of air, rolling his own hips back against Rick’s. The sound of a towel falling seemed loud in the cell, but Daryl was very quickly growing to not give two shits. He felt Rick’s hands move to his button and fly, starting to work them open but the gun belt was in the way so Daryl placed his own hands over it to start unbuckling it again.

“No,” Rick grunted in his ear, one hand squeezing Daryl’s wrist. “Want you leavin’ it on. Wanna fuck you while you’re wearing it.” Daryl couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips, his body temperature shooting up to match the heat in Rick’s words. The kinky fuck.

“Why? Ya into me wearing your things, Grimes? I ain’t some girl and this ain’t your shirt,” Daryl pushed Rick’s over eager hands away so he could turn and face his lover. His eyes briefly met Ricks before they searched downward to see how much Rick seemed to like it. His cock was already straining from his body; the head of it flushed and red. 

“No you most certainly ain’t. Think it’s just you and my belt,” Rick pushed the words in to Daryl’s mouth before he was kissing him. Daryl opened up easily to Rick, their tongues swirling around on another and diving into each others mouths. Rick’s hands went back to Daryl’s cargos, better able to handle the offending contraption of button and zipper with Daryl facing him. “Didn’t even know I’d have a thing for you wearin’ my gun belt. Thanks for comin’ in my room and snoopin’, you sexy, sneaky little shit.”

In very little time, Daryl was naked with his hands on Rick’s desk, facing the cement wall; Rick’s gun belt the only thing on Daryl’s body beside the ink etched in his skin and the sweat that was starting to trail down his spine. Rick on the other hand, was three fingers deep in the hunter, his other hand holding Daryl’s hip and tracing his thumb over the leather and Daryl’s burning skin. With the way the prison worked, the two of them had mastered the art of quick fucks when the moment presented itself. 

“Fuck, Rick, come on now,” Daryl panted, flipping his sweaty hair back to try and look at the younger man. “Ain’t got time for you to play around in my ass.”

“Love it when you get all aggressive with your beggin’,” Rick rested his chin on Daryl’s shoulder, a smirk gracing those kiss bitten lips while he pulled his fingers out of Daryl’s body. Daryl made an annoyed sound and felt his body try to chase Rick’s fingers; missing the feeling of having Rick inside him. Rick pressed a kiss on Daryl’s curled upper lip before he grabbed the back of Daryl’s right knee, forcing him to bend his leg and rest it up on the desk. Rick leaned back to marvel at Daryl’s exposed body; his hole twitching and dripping slick from Rick’s generous helping of lube.

“If ya don’ hurry the fuck up,” Daryl dipped his back, emphasizing the curve of his ass while moving his hand down between his legs to take hold of his leaking cock. “Gonna just finish myself ‘for dinn-ah!”

Daryl quickly let go of his cock in order to scramble for purchase on the metal desk when Rick was suddenly plunging fast and hard into his wet hole. **This** is what he needed. The slight burn was just the edge he needed, and Rick knew how to stretch him just enough to make it feel **amazing** without it being painful. They stayed still for a few heavy breaths, their joined panting an adulterous harmony. Oh this would be over quick.

One of Rick’s hands took hold of the gun belt while the other firmly gripped Daryl’s hip. That’s all the warning Daryl got before Rick was pistoning his hips against Daryl’s. Sounds of skin slapping skin echoed in the cell, joined by Rick’s focused grunting and Daryl’s punched out whimpers. Daryl’s cock was heavily dribbling precome across Rick’s desk; too far gone to care or even desire to touch himself. 

Daryl could feel Rick lean back to get a better view of Daryl’s body before him, the other man’s thrusts losing some of their power. Rick would need another shower after dinner; Daryl feeling his lover’s grip slipping on his hip from the sweat covering his own body. Rick tugged on the gun belt digging in to Daryl’s waist on each thrust in, using the leverage to get even deeper inside the archer. Rick was pounding in to Daryl’s prostate, both of their impending orgasms drawing their bodies tighter than a bow string.

“Oh fuck, fuck, Rick! Rick, come on,” Daryl pleaded. They were both very well aware that when Rick’s cock was jammed up Daryl’s ass, the hunter tended to get a little desperate with his begging. However he would punch anyone that dared to bring it up, but between the two of them, they both knew it and Rick loved it. “Gonna come! Wanna come, make me come, come all over your fuckin’ stupid belt- O-Oh F-uh-uh-uck!”

Daryl’s eyes rolled back when his body froze and his muscles tensed, continuing to let Rick pound in to him at a brutal pace. His cock spurted and shot jets of come across the desk; some landing on the handle of Rick’s Python but he couldn’t care less. Rick still assaulted his prostate, dragging his cock along the bundle of nerves and prolonging Daryl’s orgasm. He was thankful for the desk giving some support because he knew if it wasn’t under him, Daryl would have fallen on the floor.

“Fuck, Daryl, gonna fill you up. Always so good, so tight. Shit-“ Rick gritted out through clenched teeth. Daryl barely registered that Rick’s hand left his hip, the other still tugging on the gun belt, until a resounding crack filled the air and there was a bright stinging on one of his ass cheeks. A shudder ripped through his body and his dick jerked weakly at the sharp sensation; Rick’s hand still on his ass, tugging him open as Rick started to come. 

Then both of Rick’s hands were on his gun belt and where tugging him flush to his body. Hot gasps of breath fanned out across his shoulders while Rick continued to emptied himself inside Daryl.  It had been awhile since they last fucked and Daryl missed this; missed feeling the younger man moan at his back while he felt Rick’s cock twitch inside his body. He closed his eyes and hummed, moving his knee off the desk before his hip cramped up. He felt light headed, but Rick kept him upright in his arms. 

Rick slipped both arms around Daryl’s waist, keeping the other man close to his body before they had to separate, get cleaned, and dressed to see their family for dinner. Rick was still catching his breath but still managed to press kisses on Daryl’s sweaty shoulder. 

“Maybe I could wear your vest next time?”


End file.
